(OK, we're finally starting this rollercoaster of a ride. I hate it when you find a really good story that's long but then it peters out half way through, so you'll be glad to hear that this story is already written as far as chapter 3 with a road map right up until chapter 11! Except a chapter around once a week, all feedback is appreciated, and remember that Vanitas is best boy)
Vanitas had no idea how long he'd spent wandering the Realm of Darkness, but it must have been an eternity.
He should've known better to think he would get off lightly after he was overpowered at the Keyblade Graveyard. He would stress that it was a very narrow defeat and he would've won with both hands tied behind his back if it wasn't for Terra-Xehanort monologuing about his feelings every five minutes. Vanitas' opinion of Xehanort and his flunkies had never changed – they were all insane megalomaniacs with one brain cell between them, but the old man had what he needed. The raven Keyblade wielder's darkness would never be extinguished as long as the light that cast the shadow still burned, and Ventus was allied with the Guardians of Light. His best chance at slaying his brother was with the Seekers of Darkness, and if it meant subjecting himself to the whim of Xehanort and his eleven clones then so be it. Vanitas knew he was a force to be reckoned with, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could take on seven pissed off Keyblade wielders on his own.
What a cruel twist of fate to have him slain by the two people he despised the most – the one who gave him his half-baked heart and the one who gave him his face. Their lights were strong like eternal flames against an endless night sky, but the shadow they cast together was even stronger. Vanitas and Sora had clashed before, once in La Cité des Cloches and again in Monstropolis, but something about the gormless expression that marred his twin's face after realising that the two were near identical made the jet-black hairs on Vanitas' neck stand up in agitation.
Vanitas was a damn fool, allowing his emotions to consume him like that. There was no reason for the uncharacteristic shock on Sora's face to get him so riled up, but seeing the reflection of his own features distorted in such a pathetic display of weakness made him want to wipe that look off his face forever. Funny, letting his emotions get the better of him turned out to be his own weakness. He was ashamedly sloppy, so consumed with rage that his vision narrowed and the only thoughts that ran through his head were of separating the brunette's head from his body; he let his guard down, and Sora was more than willing to take advantage of that.
Vanitas wasn't even all that upset about being defeated. Every negative emotion that sprouted from his heart spilled more Unversed into the world, and the pain that tore through him each time one was slain only increased their numbers exponentially. His own existence was the source of his torment, and the black-haired Keyblade wielder was open to any solution that would take him away from it all no matter how drastic. Sora had tried to convince him to stay in the Realm of Light, even after kicking his ass; the brat was terminally insufferable and clearly hadn't thought about why Vanitas would even side with Xehanort in the first place, but Ventus understood. He prayed that his brother accepting darkness back into his heart would allow the two to merge fully and Vanitas would no longer exist as his own entity. He could go back to being part of Ventus, as he was always meant to be. Whether that happened willingly or unwillingly didn't matter to him anymore.
So when Vanitas was unceremoniously regurgitated back into the Realm of Darkness, he cursed every God that existed with words that would've made Hades blush.
The sensation of salt water in his lungs hit him like a freight train, a violent stab of fear sinking its razor-sharp claws into his heart. He instinctively sucked in with panic, drawing yet more water into his screaming lungs and sending his vision spinning. The raven Keyblade wielder could barely tell up from down but somehow breached the surface of the ocean, spluttering up inky water and gasping for air. His hair was plastered to his face and blocking his view, the jet black strands blending in with the oily waters until there was barely any distinction. Fighting through the stinging in his amber eyes from the brine he splashed his way towards shore, his movements uncoordinated as the panic refused to budge until he felt solid ground below his feet.
He lay morosely on the cool grey sands for longer than he would admit, his throat hoarse from coughing up the fluid in his lungs and eyes burning. Vanitas had experienced no pain at his defeat, even as the two Keyblade smashed into his chest and stomach and shattered whatever bones lay beneath his skin. There was only peace, praying that he would finally be granted a reprieve after years of struggling with the agony that came with his control over the Unversed. The brief moment of acceptance that was shared between the two halves of the single heart that he and Ventus shared had filled him with hope; perhaps his defeat would allow him and his brother to become whole once more.
Vanitas didn't know what he was expecting. Shame on him for believing that the universe would be kind enough to release him from his torment. Give them an inch, and watch them take a mile. It was Ventus' fault for not accepting him back into his heart; it was Sora's fault for saving Ventus in the first place; it was Xehanort's fault for tearing the raven boy out of Ventus and tossing him into a world that didn't want him; it was his own fault for being too weak to fight back. It was everyone's fault and no one's fault, and he didn't know which hurt more. Having nowhere to direct his hate left him feeling lost and unwanted. Maybe he deserved it after all the bad things he had done in the name of the Seekers of Darkness.
Well, he was here now. He was alive. Nothing he could do about it.
It only made sense for a creature comprised of pure darkness to reside within the Realm of Darkness anyway – Vanitas just had to make the most of it. The Heartless here drastically outnumbered any he had seen before, but now that they were effectively leaderless there was little resistance from the mindless beasts. Most were happy to wander around aimlessly, more interested in fighting each other than the black-haired boy amongst their midst, scrapping over the tiniest morsel of light that trickled down from Kingdom Hearts that ominously hovered in the sky above. Sora obviously hadn't destroyed the heart of all hearts, merely sealing it within its prison in the Realm of Darkness ready to be summoned by the next megalomaniac in line to get their grimy hands on the χ-blade. He hoped that Sora would take good care of the weapon. He was probably using it as a golf club right about now.
Vanitas had wondered how Aqua managed to survive as long as she did in the Realm of Darkness with only her wits and her Keyblade to back her up, but the longer he remained submerged in the inky depths the more he understood. Day and night were merely abstract concepts, the sickly blue glow of Kingdom Hearts overhead a perpetual sight as if time had completely stood still. Combined with his lack of visceral need to eat or sleep, his circadian rhythm was thrown off almost immediately. It felt like he had spent only a couple days in his new prison, but it could have been months. There was just nothing to compare it to.
Vanitas hated to admit it, but he was deathly bored. Even the most powerful of Heartless, as uncommon as they were now, barely held a candle to his own strength and he could slice through them like warm butter. There was only so much lying on that cursed beach, staring up at the sky and wishing that the stars that had once glinted back at him would reveal themselves that he could take. There was a deep, dark part of his heart that sorely missed the Realm of Light and its inhabitants. He wasn't delusional enough to hold any kind of emotional attachments to the brats that were responsible for his current situation in the first place, but the raven boy hadn't met anyone else that was able to give him the challenge that he craved. His Keyblade-hand was itching for a fight, and the brain-dead Shadows weren't cutting it.
Vanitas had tried to escape once. It didn't go very well.
He mostly just zoned out whenever Xehanort went on one of his maniacal rants, but some of his words must've sunken into his brain at one point. Between raving about the nature of hearts and the POWER OF DARKNESS™ the old man had mentioned the 'Door to Light', although only in passing. Vanitas had heard enough about light and darkness to last him an entire lifetime, but compared to the endless ocean of nothingness that surrounded him, it was worth at least giving it a shot. He had been shot like a cannonball into the ocean on his first arrival in the Realm of Darkness, disoriented and his mouth filled with the taste of copper, so perhaps the ocean would also hold the key to his escape.
If the ocean was a metaphorical key, then he must hold the physical 'key', right? Vanitas wouldn't consider himself an intellectual but those damn Keyblades seemed to unlock literally anything that could be considered a 'lock' even in the most abstract sense. He was pretty sure Sora had even used his to play minigames with those illustrated woodland animals. How he hadn't broken the weapon eons ago was beyond him. Vanitas' own connection to the Void Gear was a little weaker now, betraying duration that he had truly gone without summoning it as his sense of time continued to wane, but it still heeded his call. The Keyblade was one of his few remaining connections to his identity – if he ever lost it he wasn't sure how much of himself he would lose alongside it.
Summoning his Keyblade and squinting as the burst of light that accompanied it threatened to blind him in comparison to the impenetrable darkness surrounding him, Vanitas closed his yellow eyes and tried to focus. He had used enough Corridors of Darkness to at least have an idea of how this worked – if he concentrated his mind on his memories of the place he wished to travel to, his Keyblade would open a path for him. Even for the half-heart that pulsed in his chest, the chain of memories still held as steadfast as ever. The black-haired boy didn't know if the Door to Light connected to a specific place, or if it even existed at all, but the last ground that his feet had touched was the scorched wasteland of the Keyblade Graveyard. It would have to do.
Taking a deep breath, Vanitas forced himself to dig up those stale memories from the locked vault of his mind. How Terra-Xehanort had complained about being partnered with him, seeing the raven boy as nothing more than a failed Replica not worth his time. How Aqua had looked at him with such venomous malice that was so foreign to her soft features, and Ven looked at him with pity that scorched his insides. How his strength hadn't been enough, how it was never enough.
The memories now painfully hanging at the forefront of his mind, he raised the Void Gear and pointed it towards the horizon across the rippling black ocean. Yellow eyes squeezed shut and knuckles white with the effort, he opened his heart and called out into the darkness.
…
Nothing happened.
"GOD DAMNIT!" Vanitas bellowed and stabbed the Keyblade into the sand below him in frustration. "LET ME OUT OF HERE!"
Only the sound of his own gravelly voice echoed back to him. A single tear threatened to slide out of his right eye as he clung onto the embedded hilt of the Void Gear, his forehead resting against the pommel in resignation. Vanitas was a powerful being of darkness, not some cry-baby Guardian of Light. He should've known better than to think the Door to Light would respond to the pleading of a being with no light in their heart. His light was living it up in relative peace, probably sipping cocktails on the warm sands of the Destiny Islands surrounded by friends who loved and cared about him. Vanitas didn't have anybody like that in his life, and the light that continued to burn within Ventus' heart would keep him alive until it eventually snuffed itself out.
Nobody would come for him. He was where he belonged.
Sora had no idea how long he'd spent floating around in the endless sea of darkness, but it must have been an eternity.
He couldn't put a finger on the moment he had woken up surrounded by nothing but numb inky black, as if he had existed in that state since the beginning of time. Part of his mind was sure there was something before all this, but the longer he remained incorporeal the larger the holes in his heart became until they threatened to swallow his entire identity in one gulp. He didn't even have a physical form at first, existing as nothing more than a heart without a body floating wherever the undulating darkness sought to take him. Something about that seemed awfully familiar, the sensation of losing a heart to darkness and leaving his body behind as a husk, but the memory was so faded that it slipped through his fingers like smoke.
He was just so damn tired. The void was like the vacuum of space, sucking away at any flicker of life or light until entropy took it and extinguished it forever. It took all of Sora's willpower to hold on to his light, the only remnant of who he was before he was lost to the abyss. He didn't know, but he knew his heart was strong. His light was strong. There were people who had depended on it before, and there were people that still did. Sometimes he swore he heard voices in the dark calling out to him, two male and one female, their voices growing increasingly desperate and increasingly muffled as the darkness that encased him became more impenetrable by the day.
He suspected that they were just an illusion created by his desperate heart, but it was all he had in the darkness. Even if a single person was waiting for him to return, he could cling to it and draw strength and hope. Sure, he didn't know where he was going from or returning to, but he could figure the details out later.
Someone had once told him that the worlds were connected, all under the same sky. He had no face to connect with the message, but something about it rung true.
Sora used the time to try and pieces his memories back together. It wasn't like there was anything else for an incorporeal heart to do anyway. Every time those voices reached his heart, a little bit of his identity came back as if he was developing photos in a darkroom, giving him snapshots into his life. A boy with silver hair and a girl with red hair, the three of them sitting together on a tree with a crooked trunk and laughing together. Two boys with blonde hair, both identical but nothing alike, and a girl with black hair who only had a face when Sora didn't think about her. There were so many others, so many hearts that were connected to his own with tiny red strings. Sometimes the thread that bound all the hearts together became so thin that it was almost invisible, but it was there nonetheless.
As his memories became more tangible to his shattered heart his body followed suit. Sora had almost forgotten what it was like to physically exist, to feel the rushing of blood through his veins out to his extremities and the pressure in his chest with each breath. He recalled a time where he existed as a ghost in a world of blue skies and water, watching his own image repeat the same motions over and over, and the presence of a lost star with no name and a grey Dream Eater with a nagging voice.
He remembered something about a 'Reaper's Game', but just the thought of the words made the gaping void residing inside his newly reformed chest expand like a black hole. In the same way that the brunette's other memories were returning to him and slotting back into place, his memories of the 'Reapers Game' had no puzzle pieces that matched. It was as if the pieces had been stolen from him and obliterated so that they would never slot back into place again.
Sora wondered if Naminé would know anything about that; she always seemed to have one foot stuck in his memories.
Eventually his body reformed enough for Sora to open his eyes. The only knowledge he had of his surroundings came from the little info gleamed from the river of darkness that eddied against his heart, not even realising that he had been blind until he was gifted the ability to see. The exquisite stained glass windows and towering pillars of blue were a sight for sore eyes, literally and figuratively. Sora had been here many times before – the Station of Awakening straddled the line between life and death, a manifestation of his own heart that appeared to him in his dreams and kept asking him to chose between a sword, a staff, and a shield. He still wasn't sure why he couldn't just take all three – he did have two hands after all.
This wasn't how Sora remembered his Station, although it had been a while since his boots last tapped against the reinforced glass that seemed to flow beneath him like lava. The mosaic under him that showed his own visage wrapped in peaceful sleep, surrounded by the faces of the friends he held closest to his heart, was shattered to the point that he barely recognised his own face. Everything from the waist down was missing as if something had dragged its claws through the glass and cleaved chunks way until nothing remained. He could almost make out three individual points of impact, but what little remained of his Station was marred with cracks like it would break off and tumble into the abyss at the slightest movement.
Sora had see this before. This is how Ventus' Station of Awakening appeared to him, the first time the two had connected their hearts. In his case, the missing pieces of his mosaic had been torn away to form Vanitas.
So what had happened to the lost pieces of Sora's heart to put his own Station on the brink of vanishing forever like this?
He squinted his sapphire eyes, peering into the impenetrable veil of darkness that surrounded the lone pillar. Where were all the lavish doors and endless staircases that littered the place like he remembered? Sora's heart had enough space in it to support not only his own life, but also that of three others without stretching itself too thin, not to mention the piles and piles of data that Ansem the Wise kept dumping inside of it for safe keeping. There was no way this single pillar jutting out of the abyss was all that the brunette had left of himself. If he focused hard enough he could make out miniscule flecks of dim light, other hearts just like him caught in the underflow and carried to their final resting place.
Kingdom Hearts. They were all going towards Kingdom Hearts.
Most lost souls would be ecstatic at the thought of joining with their brethren within the endless light that radiated from the heart of all hearts, but the knowledge only filled Sora with dread. Nobody knew for sure what lay beyond the event horizon, but no heart had ever returned from its depths except for the single instance where Xemnas had cleaved a hole straight through it, hearts spilling out from within and coalescing into mindless Heartless. The closer he drew to that pale icy light, the more his own light was eclipsed and out-shone, and the more distant those voices became. He had spent such a long time putting himself back together, for it all to have amounted to nothing was a prospect that he refused to accept. There were so many hearts calling out for him and begging for him to return to them; he couldn't let them down.
Sora didn't know if he still remembered how to use his lungs, but he had to try. Taking in as much of the dense air as he could until it felt like his chest would burst, he wailed into the darkness as loud as his vocal chords would allow. The tearing sensation in his throat betrayed the disuse of his voice, but the pain was just a reminder that he was real, a physical sensation that was so rare to him that it almost tasted sweet. The void was so viscous like syrup that the sound barely travelled, absorbed by the darkness around him as if he was in a sound-proof chamber.
A small burst of light radiated out in front of him, responding to his cries.
It was so faint that he almost missed it, but it was there. A tiny flash of light, dimmer and darker than any that had floated past him before and barely standing out against the endless sea of obsidian, but it was there. Someone had responded to his call for help. If he hadn't spent such a long time staring at nothing but oily black then he might not have even noticed the small burst of light, but even the faintest spark stood out against the unchanging backdrop. Feeling his blood rushing through his head with adrenaline, Sora called out to the light again.
"Hey, can you hear me?" he yelled hoarsely. "I'm here! You've found me!"
He reached out a hand instinctively to touch the light; perhaps it was the Door to Light welcoming him back to the worlds that lay beyond it, or it was the heart of one of his friends reaching out to him. No matter how hard he strained his shoulder the light never seemed to come any closer to him, as if it was somehow resisting his presence. Who would possibly respond to his cries yet decline him assistance? It was as if the response was involuntary, like it was struggling against the urge to cry back to him. Sora didn't have the freedom to question the motive: he was so close to fading away that he needed to take any opportunity he could. Letting this chance for freedom to slip away from him was just not option.
The light was so faint he almost believed for a moment that he was hallucinating it, the last vestigial struggle of a failing heart, but as his faith began to waiver his ears rung with a chorus of countless hearts calling back to him. The stars that fluttered alongside him increased in luminosity as if their own light was empowering the faint light that he was clamouring for, bolstering it until Sora could barely stand to keep his eyes open. He had forgotten how light felt against his skin, the warmth caressing it until it almost burned like those hazy days he spent on the islands.
He wondered if this was how Ventus felt when he plucked the blonde Keyblade wielder from the grasp of darkness. It was oddly fitting.
The light that was previously so far away was now so close that Sora could barely make each heart out from the next. Perhaps he was dying, but this felt nothing like the first time he passed away in the Keyblade Graveyard. It was a little disturbing that he even had that experience to compare anything to. If he closed his eyes he could hear the voices of all his friends, shouting at him to just hang on a little longer, until it drowned out his own thoughts. If he had been able to see anything other than the endless tsunami of light, he would have witnessed a single pathway appear behind him, barely clinging on to the broken edge of his stained glass image and disappearing into the abyss, connecting his fading heart to another that remained shrouded deep within the darkness.
It would be OK; he had done this for many others before. Now it was his time.
Let's open the door. Together.
If Vanitas had spent any more time pacing he would have worn a trench into the sandy beach.
He still wasn't completely sure what had happened to him, but the aching in his chest as if his organs were suddenly taking up too much room had refused to budge. The only sounds for miles around were the gentle breaking of waves against the black sand and Vanitas' cursing, not an unusual occurrence since he was unceremoniously dropped into the icy cold ocean however long ago. A few Heartless had attempted to approach the shores to investigate the commotion but whether it was because of the furious raven-haired Keyblade wielder or the Keyblade itself that was still embedded into the sand, none dared to brave the cloud of wrath that hung overhead.
"Stupid Guardians of Light… more trouble than they're worth… always getting in my way..."
The throbbing ache in his chest only continued to grow as he became more and more agitated. He had tried and failed to summon the Door to Light and spent a few minutes reflecting on his situation and definitely not moping and feeling sorry for himself when he heard the yelling. At first he was sure the Guardians of Light had found him, either coming to drag him back kicking and screaming or to just finally put him out of his misery, but the longer the screaming went on the more apparent it became that it was coming from his own heart.
Someone was insistently trying to get his attention, but he wasn't sure who. He had huffed and thrown himself into the sand, crossing his arms stubbornly and refusing to answer. The last time someone had called out for his heart, Xehanort had roped him into yet another of his crazy schemes. As desperate as Vanitas was to escape the miserable wastelands he was currently stuck in, he wasn't desperate enough to become someone's flunky again. He would do it on his own, he just needed to figure out the whole 'light' shtick and he could be on his way.
But the yelling hadn't stopped. There was a moment where it seemed to pause for a metaphorical breath before continuing even louder and more obnoxiously than before. Vanitas instinctively clenched both hands over his ears to try and block the noise out, but it echoed around his head and in his heart, refusing to be ignored. Whatever was causing it was really persistent and was specifically targeting him. His vision swam and stars flickered behind his eyelids as the noise replaced any of his own thoughts until he was sure he would be swallowed by the light.
He would've given anything to stop the pain. Then it did stop, and he suddenly had a 'stowaway'.
You were the closest that answered.
Vanitas groaned again and rested his pounding head in his hands. It was bad enough that he had to see Sora's face looking back at him in every mirror but now he had the insufferable brunette in his head! He still remembered the forlorn look in those sapphire eyes as the raven boy chose to fade away after his defeat. Ventus at least understood and respected his decision, but Sora was never able to comprehend how someone could willing resign themselves to the endless abyss. His light was so overwhelmingly bright that the kid had never considered any other possibility.
"What a pain in the ass," Vanitas groaned to himself. In stating that he would do what it took to get the yelling to shut up for two minutes he had essentially invited Sora into his heart. The thought had passed through his head so fleetingly that he had no time to consider the consequences. Shoulda just left him.
No one else came.
Vanitas considered his options, which were admittedly exceedingly limited with his current imprisonment in the Realm of Darkness. He was defeated long before Sora was able to face off against Xehanort, and part of his mind suspected that this was intentional. The old man was just insane enough to purposely ensure that the brunette was triumphant so the two could fight mano-a-mano, the rest of his clones thrown at Sora as mere obstacles to weaken him but not destroy him. Larxene and Marluxia had planned to abandon ship as soon as the going got tough, and Demyx and Vexen had betrayed them and provided the means for Roxas to get his own Replica body, so it seemed he wasn't the only one to have suspicions about Xehanort's ulterior motives.
What was concerning him most was that Vanitas hadn't lived long enough to see the result of their inevitable clash, and if Sora was here with him now as just a tiny sliver of his heart, then had Xehanort won?
Sora was in such a bad state that Vanitas was surprised his heart hadn't just become a Heartless already. The brunette's light was so overwhelming that it was able to support not only his own life but also the hearts of three others alongside it, four if he counted himself. The heart that was currently residing in his own chest like a squatter barely held the light of a newborn, so dull and faint that it was almost unrecognisable. If it hadn't been for the flashes of crystal blue eyes and chocolate brown hair that accompanied the incorporeal voice, he would've thought he'd just lost his mind. He still hadn't completely ruled that possibility out.
Vanitas huffed and retrieved his Keyblade, the Void Gear vibrating softly in his grip as the connection was reforged between them at the simple touch. He couldn't deny that he was marginally pissed off at Sora's admission – the fact that he was only reached out to because the other hearts in line hadn't responded to the brunette's pleas hurt his ego a little, but it also deepened his sense of concern. The only person who could rival Xehanort in regards to numbers of people sharing his heart was Sora, pieces of himself inevitably left over in his Nobody even after he got his own body. And his other Nobody. And whatever the hell Naminé was. And whatever the hell he was. And the data version of him…
Never mind, one Sora was already one too many.
Vanitas was surprised there was anything remaining of Sora's heart, seeing as he was so willing to hand out pieces of it to anyone who asked until there was nothing left. The idea of the Keyblade wielder falling in battle to Xehanort was becoming less likely the more he considered it – Sora's heart was so full of holes at this point that if he had been killed, there was no way his heart would've survived on what little energy it had left over. The raven boy tried to remind himself that time didn't flow normally in the Realm of Darkness, so while it was possible that Sora had floated around in the void for years and been none the wiser, it was equally possible that it had only been a couple of minutes.
It's a long story.
His beaming yellow eyes were suddenly drawn to something bobbing in the inky black water, a metallic glint reflecting the blue light of Kingdom Hearts like it was winking at him. The waves rolled against it and pushed it towards the shore as if it was trying to deliver its payload directly into Vanitas' hands. He allowed the Void Gear to dismiss itself from his slack grip and picked his way towards the unknown item, the gentle waves soaking through the seams of his boots and stinging his toes with an icy touch.
The item was not something Vanitas was familiar with, but it seemed to be some kind of technological device. The screen was cracked and warped with water damage, several inches across yet compact enough to fit in his hand, and a flashing red light in one corner that blinked at him like a beacon. The device was encased with something that had a rubbery texture, the colours faded as if sun-bleached but still held the echoes of bright red and yellow. As Vanitas grazed his finger across the surface the screen flickered to life at his touch, displaying a message that it was scanning the face of whoever had roused it from its slumber.
Vanitas yelped and almost dropped the device at the indication that it was probing him for his secrets, but it seemed to be happy with what it found and revealed its contents to him.
THAT'S MY GUMMIPHONE! GIMME!
Sora excitedly flicked through the apps on his phone, the screen moving painfully slowly because of how much damage it had endured and dropping his inputs left and right. His muscle memory guided him straight to the messaging app they used and he impatiently waited for it to load. There was almost no chance of the phone managing to make any calls in its current broken condition, not to mention that he didn't even know if the Realm of Darkness got any signal, but if there was any chance of being rescued then it was through his friends. Hell, if he could load the messages then he could even figure out how long he had been gone!
A tear almost squeezed its way down his cheek at the sight of those usernames, the messages slowly trickling in one by one as the Gummiphone was used for the first time in who knows how long. Kairi, Riku, Roxas… the only ones not part of their collaborative group chat were the few apprentices that had remained by Ansem's side, and that was only because Ienzo was the only one who even knew how to use a phone. Sora never got to see how his journey had ended, not after he was lost to the darkness when Kairi's heart was restored, but he still recalled his promise to Naminé. Hopefully someone found her in the Final World and got her out.
Strange… the phone didn't seem to be loading any new messages for him. The most recent one was only sent a couple of minutes ago, and it was sent by him when Keyblade Hero 3 had landed in Scala Ad Caelum. No responses to his text came through, and Sora struggled to believe that he had truly only been gone for a few minutes. Either those who had remained behind had abandoned the chat, or his phone just wasn't able to connect to the cloud and feed any new messages through to him. He prayed with every fibre of his being that it was the latter.
Well, he wouldn't know if he didn't try. Wincing at the blinking red light, blaring at him to indicate the device was running low on battery and with no way to charge it, he needed to make good use of what little power was available to him.
aoSora: hello? testin can ny1 hear me?
aoSora: i only have like 20% battry left so if u can hear me now wud b a gd time 2 reply
Vanitas was already at his wits end with the situation, so the feeling of someone shoving him into the back seat of his own body and then driving it around was not one he was willing to deal with. He and Sora shared a lot more in common that just their faces – they were both equally confused about what was going on – but the two had vastly differing ideas about how they were going to unjelly their jam. The raven boy was not about to hand himself over to the Guardians of Light so they could lock him up and interrogate him: they were still his mortal enemies. He couldn't rely on Sora's presence to talk them out of any violent tendencies that tickled their fancies.
...
Huh, no response.
Vanitas almost jumped out of his skin as something cold and hard banged against his ankle and sent pain shooting up his shins. Thinking he was being attacked while he was distracted by whatever the hell a 'Gummiphone' was, he jumped back a couple of paces and prepared to summon his Keyblade, fumbling with the phone as he tried not to drop it in the water again. Who knows just how much more water damage it could take before it was rendered useless.
The waters weren't done with washing up the contents of Sora's sock drawer, it seemed.
It was extremely rusted and stained a deep gold with wear and tear, but there was no doubt about it. It was Sora's Keyblade. 'Kingdom Key' or whatever dumb name he gave the thing. A chill ran down his spine at the sight of the discarded blade, a feeling that reverberated in his chest as Sora's own heart shared the sentiment. He bent down and wrapped his hand around the leather hilt, lifting it up to eye level and inspecting the weapon. The ethereal silver glow was marred by layer of rust and dirt, the keychain broken clean off and nowhere to be found, and one of the teeth was bent as if a bone had been snapped. Even hidden under layers of grime, the light that was encased within the weapon still shone through and warmed his palm as it thrummed under his touch.
The only reason a Keyblade would ever exist without its master, was if its master was dead.
I don't know if I died... I don't remember. Wouldn't be the first time, though.
Vanitas puffed out his cheeks in exasperation and glanced back down to the awaiting Gummiphone, Sora's messages still present on the screen with no responses loaded or perhaps even submitted. He was a bit of an old man when it came to using technology, but it didn't seem too hard?
aoSora: if ur gettn these mssgs ven is a lil bitch pass it on
aoSora: gaurdians of lite go home
Vanitas swore he could hear Sora let out a barking laugh right into his ear, but it passed so quickly that he wasn't convinced that he hadn't just imagined it. The raven Keyblade wielder had spent so long staring at the same stretch of charcoal beach that he wouldn't be surprised if he had lost his mind. What kind of Seeker of Darkness would he be anyway if he didn't take every opportunity to poke fun at the light and their multiple oversized door keys? If they weren't willing or able to reply to the desperate pleading of their missing friend then perhaps they would reply to some cajoling.
Still, the lack of response was weighing heavily on Vanitas' heart, and he wasn't sure why. Perhaps Sora was just getting to him and his emotions were leaking through the frail barrier between their hearts, or he had just gone soft, but the moment that the brunette had remarked he had been calling and VANITAS of all people was the only one to answer didn't fit in with anything he understood about the Guardians of Light. The raven boy had fully expected to spent the rest of his days in the dreary prison that was the Realm of Darkness, at least until Ventus decided he had enough of his moping and came to finish him off for good, but Sora? He had legions of people willing to follow every step he took, people who would throw their lives down at his feet at just the mention of his name.
Were they really so willing to ignore the guy that had given pieces of his own heart for them and leave him to die?
Sora gripped the soft rubber casing of the phone harder, grateful that it was protective enough to shield his exposed hands from the shards of glass screen hanging loose. Vanitas was wrong. He was wrong. There were a million reasons why none of his friends had found him in the darkness, why they weren't answering his messages or his cries for salvation. He just had to think of them... Agony gripped his chest as he refused to accept that he had been abandoned. Not after everything they had promised each other. They would come eventually. Right?
aoSora: pls guys im so cold i miss u i want 2 cum home pls respond
Vanitas wasn't really one for moping about his situation, but whatever emotion Sora was battering him with was so powerful he couldn't defend his own heart against it. How the others who shared fragments of Sora's heart had managed to keep their own identities intact against the waves of light that washed against him like a tsunami was beyond him. The watery tear that had lingered around the edge of his vision finally slipped free and cascaded down his cheek, glittering like diamonds under the icy light of Kingdom Hearts. Vanitas firmly wiped it away with one arm and stood up so quickly that his head spun with the effort.
"Yeah, I'm not going to sit around and feel sorry for you," he remarked with a deadpan expression. "You can cry all you want, but if you're in my body then we follow my rules. Capiche?"
He didn't receive a reply, but the ten ton weight that had been sitting on his chest like a dumbell slowly lifted. Vanitas took that as a sign of agreement. Whenever Sora - or whatever piece of Sora was left – spoke to him, it echoed around inside his head as if it was bouncing off the back of his eyeballs and gave him a headache. Thankfully the brunette was so weak that it was a struggle to get more than a single sentence out of him. Vanitas was more that happy for it to stay that way.
He was loathe to admit it, but the Guardians of Light were their best bet at any kind of freedom. Even if Vanitas was able to dig them out of the hole the two had found themselves in and escape the Realm of Darkness on his own, he was faced with the realisation that he didn't exactly have many allies to fall back on. If Xehanort was still alive and kicking he would be absolutely delighted to have Vanitas deliver what remained of Sora's presence to him. If he wasn't then the two would be on their own, and he didn't have the foggiest clue how to get the brunette out of his heart. Not out of concern for the weakened heart that still faintly beat besides his own. More for his own sanity.
You have the key.
Vanitas had all but forgotten that the Kingdom Key was still present in his right hand. Normally a Keyblade would reject anyone trying to manipulate its power if they weren not their master, but the blade pulsed with a warmth that kept steady pace with his own heartbeat. Perhaps it sensed that the boy grasping it was holding Sora's heart inside of him, or maybe it was just yet another individual that wasn't able to tell the two apart. Vanitas didn't care all that much about the how or why, even in its beaten up state a Keyblade was a Keyblade. Not only that but it was a Keyblade of light, a direct opposition to his Void Gear which was born from the same suffocating darkness that he himself had been regurgitated out of.
Vanitas couldn't summon the Door to Light, but maybe Sora could.
Strengthening his grip on the Kingdom Key and cringing as the rust caking the hilt crumbled under his touch, he closed his yellow eyes and raised the blade up towards the sky. The weapon was unnaturally lightweight in comparison to the Void Gear, as if he was holding a plastic sword. It was a little jarring. Vanitas had hoped he wouldn't need to subject himself to experiencing those memories of the Keyblade Graveyard again within his lifetime, but fate didn't have him on its good cards so he expected nothing less. Recalling how the dust stung his eyes in those endless wastelands and the heat burned against his pale flesh, he called out once more with his heart and begged for an answer.
That's not where the Door to Light leads! Here, I've got you covered.
The sudden burst of light was enough to make the insides of Vanitas' closed eyelids glow pink, a rush of energy shooting down his arm and out the tip of the Keyblade as if it was an extension of himself. Raising his other arm and crossing his eyes with it in a futile effort to protect himself from the blinding light, the beam that arced across the sky smashed against an invisible wall and formed the shape of a Keyhole, twisting and warped as the light moved across the surface. It was so overwhelming that for a moment it outshone the glow of Kingdom Hearts suspended above him, and sent the few Heartless that had been watching the raven boy argue with himself scattering in fear.
The sound of something unlocking with a heavy click filled his head, and the door opened. It was as if a giant rectangle had been cut straight out of the fabric of reality itself, the edges sharp as a knife and spewing light from inside at an astonishing rate. Vanitas didn't know what to say. He hated the light and everything it represented, but looking at the gateway to his freedom standing right in front of him and welcoming him with open arms left him lost for words. He wondered if this was what the gates to heaven were like.
The look of amazement on his face soon gave way to an evil smirk. The Guardians of Light could go jump off a bridge for all he was concerned. Sora had every right to be angry that his so-called 'friends' had left him for dead, and even if the brunette himself didn't wish to seek revenge, Vanitas had no problem doing it for him.
He snapped a quick shot of the Door to Light on the broken Gummiphone and sent it to the vacant group chat, eager to rub his development in their faces.
aoSora: u guys r useles typical lite users
aoSora: well guess wat
aoSora: ill just do it myself
aoSora: c u l8r losers
He could feel Sora grumbling in his chest, but he ignored it. The Kingdom Key still vibrating in his hand as if it was right at home, Vanitas sped off towards his means of escape. The flowing ocean didn't give way beneath him, forming a solid path to carry him towards the Door to Light. He couldn't keep his exstatic laughter in his chest, pealing out across the water as the light seemed to reach out and pull him closer, beckoning him to his freedom. Even as the light overtook the edges of his vision until nothing else remained, his laughter never stopped.
They thought they had seen the last of him. They were so very, very wrong.
Riku knew that it was unfair to resent his friends for losing faith in Sora, but there were still days where he wasn't able to stop himself.
The moment that Sora had returned with Kairi only to slip through their fingers was still burned into his retinas. He saw it every time he blinked, every time he slipped into sleep, he would almost swear that he had imagined the whole thing if it wasn't for the shared recollection between everyone unfortunate enough to have been present that day. Riku knew they had been relaxing together, playing volleyball on the sun-scorched sands, but his memory was tainted by such overwhelming grief that it was as if nothing else had taken place that day. Nothing except for the sight of Kairi and Sora sitting on the crooked trunk of the Paopu tree together, the setting sun framing them and highlighting their hair as if they had halos.
Then he blinked and Kairi was alone.
There was a part of his heart that knew what Sora would be saying to him right now if he was able to. The brunette would tell him that everything had gone to plan, that he knew the risks and made the decision to face the consequences of chasing after ghosts, that it was his decision to do so and no one else's and so there was only himself to blame. That part of his heart grew quieter every day, just the same as the house that once rung with laughter and now echoed with chilling silence.
He was Sora's Dream Eater. It was his job to protect his friend from his nightmares and accompany him wherever he went. And he didn't. Riku had looked his best friend in the eye and seen the resolute conviction that lay within, and had let him go alone. He let Sora go. Sora could deny just how affected he had been when Riku was crowned a Keyblade Master and he wasn't until he was blue in the face, that didn't make it true. The brunette cared so little what others thought about his skill at that point, especially considering that he had saved the multiverse more times than could be counted on two hands; the only person he had to prove himself to was himself. Riku couldn't bring himself to take that away from him.
Besides, even with the most impossible odds working against him, Sora always managed to find his way home. Until the one time that he didn't.
Kairi couldn't tell them much about what had happened. She could describe the moments leading up to her death in painful detail, how Xehanort had kidnapped her to force Sora's hand into providing the necessary ingredients for that damned χ-blade, the feeling of No Name slicing through her back like warm butter, how her heart had been cleaved from her body and cast aside before she was able to take a single breath. Everything after that point might as well not have even existed, until she was plucked from the darkness by Sora. How on earth the brunette had managed to track her down in the unknown void that lay beyond the land of the living was beyond him, but his friend had always managed to find a way. She described a warm light that filled her entire being as if the sun itself had descended upon her, then she was on the island with Sora by her side, and then it was just her.
There wasn't a single person present that day that hadn't dropped everything in order to take up arms and drag their missing friend home by his spiky brown hair. Riku was so used to having to act alone, either working from behind the scenes or disguised with someone else's face, so the sensation of being surrounded by a small army of very angry and very motivated companions was something new to him. It was nice, knowing that he had people that were willing to back him up. He just wished it was under better circumstances.
The problem was that they didn't even know where to begin.
Ventus was their best bet. The situation that Kairi had relayed to them through her intermittent tears was awfully similar to what he had experienced himself: Sora had opened his heart and bonded with the blonde's shattered soul to saved him from the vicious grip of death. The only problem was that, in his case, Ventus' heart had taken shelter inside of Sora's while he recovered, and if the same was true with their current predicament then it would be Kairi that was missing, nestled within the unnaturally roomy space next to the brunette's own heart. That led on to a second possibility, that Sora's heart was actually hidden within Kairi herself. It didn't take many examinations by the remaining apprentices of Ansem the Wise to determine that her chest was decided empty of Sora's manic energy.
The only other option was that Sora was somewhere within the Realm of Darkness. Riku refused to acknowledge just how remote that possibility was, there was simply no other option. Sora would have to be there. While the silver-haired boy often felt like Keyblades were being handed out to everyone and their mother these days, there was a certain advantage to having eight Keyblade wielders ready to turn the Realm of Darkness upside down in search of their missing friend. Even Mickey had managed to tear himself away from his royal duties to join the search party, something that was becoming more and more uncommon as the days passed. Plus, Donald and Goofy would've actually killed him if he tried to refuse on the basis that they didn't have the ability to wield weapons that could properly dispose of the Heartless. The two had more than proven themselves at that point anyway.
Every day that passed with no sign of that messy mop of chocolate spikes or those piercing sapphire eyes was a day where the sun might as well have not risen.
The King was the first to call it quits. Riku couldn't find it in himself to blame the mouse – Disney Castle had taken a beating from the Heartless and had never properly recovered after the wicked thorns had infested the castle basement in their attempt to corrupt the Cornerstone of Light. Mickey had no choice but to leave the denizens to their own devices while he was away assisting in the war against the Seekers of Darkness. He was very good at hiding his emotions – he was a politician after all – but there was no hiding the pain and disappointment that the King had felt towards himself. He was more than willing to spend every day that he could searching for the tiniest trace of Sora's presence that might have remained, but his people needed his leadership.
Donald and Goofy had to-and-froed about going back with their King. Riku still wasn't sure if he had made the right decision by convincing them to retreat, stating that the seven remaining Keyblade wielders were already more than enough to haul a single lazy brunette back home, and that they were the most valuable back at Disney Castle. They could use the library to search for any info that could help them, and they would have the Gummiship on call if the others needed to travel around quickly. The silver-haired boy got the distinct impression that they weren't convinced he wasn't trying to get rid of them because they didn't have Keyblades themselves, but they relented. Riku was making an active effort to force himself to abide solely by the rules of logic, which might have resulted in him coming across a little callous. He was just so afraid that if he allowed his emotions to slip through then he would never be able to put them back into the little box that he kept hidden away.
He didn't know who was the next to give up hope, but their numbers trickled down one by one.
It was Kairi herself who had finally pulled Riku to one side and demanded that he at least take a break from his futile searching. At some point it had become only him scouring the Realm of Darkness, using his existing exposure to the deadly nature of the shadows that lay within as an excuse to continue on his own, but there was no hiding the truth from the redhead. She begged him to let it go, to come back to Destiny Islands with her even if it was only to recuperate. He was running himself ragged trying to cover so much ground under his own strength and she could see the tiredness in his muscles and the bags under his eyes.
The sense of betrayal was insurmountable. Sora had given his own heart for Kairi's safety, not even for the first time, and cast himself to the void so she could have a life of peace even if it had to be without him by her side. The prospect that she would forsake his sacrifice so easily was practically obscene. Sora had given so much for her, for everyone, how could she let it all be for nothing?! What was the point of going back to their homeworld if they were only returning as a pair, the third piece of their puzzle swept under the rug as if it had never existed?
Riku hated to admit it, but through her tears and pleading she was speaking the truth, however painful it may be. Between the gang back at Disney Castle and the gang at Hollo- ahem, Radiant Garden, there were still people working on the disastrous situation they were stuck in. He had promised her that he would never try and solve a problem on his own again, not when there were droves of willing helpers surrounding him and already giving their all in other ways. He still needed to remind himself that it was no longer necessary to bear the weight of the world solely on his own shoulders.
It was a little weird coming back to the island after all these years; it was almost like he had outgrown the place like a childhood sweater. The islands were stunning beautiful, even more than he had remembered, although his memories were tainted by the sight of the islands shrouded in darkness of his own creation, so he wasn't the most reliable source. Even thought Riku knew that his friends were putting a lot of effort into making him and Kairi as comfortable as they could be, his heart still yearned for the exhiliration and excitement of travel to distant worlds. If it hadn't been for the redhead giving him those insufferable puppy eyes and begging him to stay, he would've jumped ship months ago.
Riku and Wakka were in the midst of an intense pull-up competition when the call came.
Tidus had very sensibly opted to sit that one out, content to watch the veins on the two duelling boy's foreheads pop as neither of them were willing to concede defeat to the other. The tree branch they were both hanging from groaned under their combined weight, bobbing up and down as the two repeatedly clenched their biceps and lifted their heads above the bark and allowed their bodies to sink back down only to do it all over again. Neither of them were even counting at that point, so focused on trying to outdo the other that the game was just a matter of who would be the one to tap out first.
"Oi, Riku!" Tidus yelled, struggling to be heard over the strained grunting of the two boys still giving their all in their competition. "It's Kairi, she'll kill you if you don't answer!"
The threat of the redhead's wrath wasn't worth beating Wakka at anything. Panting with exertion he allowed his grip to slacken and dropped ungracefully to the ground, wincing as his knees took all the force of the impact against the grass below him. He was really out of practice after all these months. Wakka let out a whoop of celebration and followed suit, punching the air and wiping away the sweat on his tanned brow that had evaded his blue headband.
"Oh ya, man! That's one for me!"
Riku sternly ignored him and accepted his Gummiphone from Tidus, Kairi's name flashing on the screen as the device insisted that he answer her pronto. It was quite rare for any of his friends to actually call each other, preferring the instant reply that the group chat afforded them, so if the socially anxious redhead to want to speak to him then it must be something important. Sliding his thumb across the screen to unlock it, he moved to lift the phone to his ear but wasn't able to get that far before Kairi let her presence be known.
"RIKU! HAVE YOU SEEN IT YET?! I'M FREAKING OUT!"
Kairi belted down the phone so loudly that even Tidus and Wakka could hear her wailing and she wasn't even on speakerphone. Riku winced as his eardrum threatened to pop with the excessive volume, opting to hold the device a few inches away from his head.
"Kairi, please stop yelling," he insisted. "What are you talking abo- "
"NO I WONT STO- OK fine. I'm calm. Everything's calm."
Riku could hear Kairi audibly breathing slowly on the other end of the line. He felt a pang of fear cross his heart at the sign that his friend was having to actively control herself, worry setting in that perhaps she was in danger or someone was hurt. She was so sweet-natured that such an explosive outburst was almost completely unheard of. Tidus and Wakka seemed to be feeling the same way, similar expressions of concern marring their suntanned faces as they listened on. Riku turned his phone to loudspeaker so that the three of them could remain privy to their conversation. They had been friends for so long now that there were very few unbroken boundaries between them all anyway.
"Kairi, what's wrong?" Riku probed. "Why are you so upset? Has something happened?"
"OH MY GOD, YES!" she belted back, her attempts at restraining her anxiety proving futile. "Do you not check your texts?! You need to get back to the house right now, it's about Sora!"
Riku felt his heart skip a beat at the sound of that name. Kairi had practically refused to acknowledge their friend's existence since the two moved back home to the Destiny Islands, her sorrow lingering just behind her ocean-blue eyes as if even speaking Sora's name would've allowed the dam to burst. He swallowed deeply, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Agrabah desert and his breath catching in his throat.
"Alright, I'll be back straight away."
He hung up the line without even saying goodbye, something that had annoyed his friends at first but soon came to understand as just part of his abrupt nature. His thumb found its way to the Messenger app they used to speak with each other purely by muscle memory, the movement ingrained into his hand by the thousands of times he had made the motion before, and was immediately assaulted by a stream of texts that seemed to have no end.
number_imaginary: EVERYTHINGS HAPPENING SO MUCH ALL AT ONCE
notanobody: i knew i wasnt imagining it! hes still out there somewhere
Luna_Diviner: We need to remain calm and think carefully about what our next actions are.
Master_Aqua: Isa is right guys. We still have no clue where he might be texting us from.
10_year_nap: heck u aqua im not w8ing ny longer 8(
Master_Aqua: Language, Ven.
10_year_nap: sry
It seemed like every second that passed another message popped up, moving too fast for his mind to process as everyone attempted to speak at once. Riku's mind refused to put two and two together, having already accepted that the likelihood of the brunette ever reappearing had passed the realm of possibility the moment they had collectively abandoned their search. Ignoring the feverish flow of texts, he scrolled upwards in an attempt to find the source of the commotion. He didn't need to scroll far before his eyes zeroed in on the offending message, sent from a username that had not popped up for months despite how many times he had prayed for a single glimpse of it.
aoSora: hello? testin can ny1 hear me?
"That's Sora's username…" Tidus remarked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He was right. That was Sora's username.
That was Sora's username.
Sora.